


Safe, together

by TifaSugarEng (tifasugar)



Series: JeanMarco one shots ♥ [30]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein-centric, POV Marco Bott, happy birthday marco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24774373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tifasugar/pseuds/TifaSugarEng
Summary: Marco POV"Being apart from his friends would suck, especially from one of them, but he didn’t expect what happened after that.He didn’t expect the loneliness.And yeah, growing up and maturing meant taking different paths in life, he expected that.It’s just… Jean…"
Relationships: Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Series: JeanMarco one shots ♥ [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/988548
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	Safe, together

**Author's Note:**

> > _My friend_   
>  _When the blood has dried_   
>  _My friend_   
>  _Instant alibi_   
>  _You've seen me from every side_   
>  _Still down for the ride_   
>  _Ooh, my friend_
>> 
>> _Who could take your place?_   
>  _Who could take mine?_   
>  _None could take your place_   
>  _None could take mine_
>> 
>> __ —__Hayley Williams - My Friend

Being bored could be dangerous but loneliness was way worse.

Marco walked over his living room and reflected on the tall window, cleaning the morning condensation from it to look outside. He had always loved big cities and Stohess was his favorite by far. But it was also a place that encouraged his tendency to feel depressed —Too many people who didn’t care for each other, at all.

Marco sat on his sofa taking a sip from his coffee, just to get out of bed. He curled his feet under his body and opened Facebook for the first time in… too many months. Too much time to count. He didn’t want to think about how long it was since everything changed. Shaking bad thoughts away, he scrolled over the main page.

_ That’s waaaay too many notifications to care about right now. _

So, Ymir and Historia were going to get married in two months. _Still in Trost!_ That was unexpected.

_ Nice nice nice, they were cute together in high school. _

Reiner and Bertolt got a new van, and they smiled happily from the inside. Probably the one taking the picture was Annie but he wasn’t sure. They were in Mare, they always talked about the city.

Sasha opened a restaurant with her boyfriend, Nicolo, and of course her best friend, Connie.

Mikasa, Eren, and Armin were still a thing, they came back to their village in Shiganshina.

_ Nice nice nice. _

Marco shut the laptop with a gasp, heart on his throat, and that wicked grin still flashing behind his closed eyes. It’s been too long but clearly not long enough.

He pushed it aside and turned on the sofa, facing the brown fabric, curling into a ball to protect himself from feelings, from the past, from his reality.

Yes, he needed to be in Stohess and yes, he moved willingly, but it didn’t make things hurt any less. When he received his university acceptance letter three years ago everything seemed wonderful. Being apart from his friends would suck, especially from one of them, but he didn’t expect what happened after that.

He didn’t expect the loneliness.

And yeah, growing up and maturing meant taking different paths in life, he expected that.

It’s just… Jean…

Jean was supposed to be there for him. Always. His best friend. More than a brother to him. Once upon a time, his everything.

_ Damn you, distance. _

He had someone else now, smiling brightly with him in that picture. He had his own life and Marco was just a childhood friend. They parted ways, eventually losing contact because life’s life and things happen. There wasn’t anyone to blame, it just… happened.

Marco forced himself up from the sofa, going straight to his bedroom to grab his bag, changing clothes to something sporty, heading outside in a rush to burn all that anxiety at the gym. Sweat a bit. Or a lot. And maybe take someone home.

It wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last time.

The picture he barely saw didn’t want to leave his thoughts and he was going crazy at this point because  _ yay! Overthinking! _

It’s been less than a week, four days top since he had the fantastic idea of checking his dead Facebook account. Since then, he’s been struggling with an intense need of knowing more about him, taking a brief look at his life. But the rational part of his brain kept him from doing it, knowing it would be better for him the less he knew.

But, let’s face it, Marco has always been a curious man by nature and it was just a tiny peek, that’s it, nothing else.

He opened the app, pressed that blue _F_ , and wrote ‘Jean Kirschtein’ in the search bar.

Marco held his breath, eyes sliding over the screen: as icon, he chose a picture of himself throwing one of his grins, pretending to be cooler than he was, and his header portrayed a messy desk full of watercolors, copics, and pencils.

_ So, he’s still an artist. _

And there was his info, all fake, of course: Hogwarts as his school and Winterfell as his born place. Relationship status: is complicated.

_ What the fuck… _

And he scrolled. 

Memes, cat videos, more memes, kpop because Jean discovered it recently, fandom stuff, more cats, a selfie.  _ The selfie,  _ with that blonde woman, a beautiful face framed by curly hair and a cute nose. And the caption said: “Marlowe, please, pick her up, can’t get this bitch off my back”.

So maybe she wasn’t his girlfriend. Marco clicked on it to take a closer look and several things happened at the same time.

He pressed his thumb where he shouldn’t and he liked the picture.

His mum called him.

He screamed, got nervous and his phone fell on the floor. 

He picked the call instead of hanging, screaming “MUM I’LL CALL YOU BACK”, opening facebook again and unliking the picture.

It all happened fast, really fast, and Marco was left with a twist in his guts, a tick on his leg, and an intense fear of what could happen if Jean saw. He told himself Jean didn’t see it, but if he were the same person Marco remembered, he probably saw. Jean’s phone was an attachment to his arm, or at least were, but there was still hope.

Maybe he could move on with his life pretending it didn’t happen as it should have been.

A tiny blue light flicked on his phone and his stomach fell to the ground.

He swiped his finger and there it was a Facebook messenger notification.

The thing is, how do you talk again to a person you left behind? A person you left by himself with the excuse of being too busy knowing that it was a lie? How do you come back to how things were?

_ Am I allowed to come back? _

_ _

He hit the send button and stood up, pacing up and down his room, phone clutched to his chest. He left so much behind, so many possibilities and now Jean talked to him again and everything was different and his phone chimed,  _ ohmygodheistalkingtome. _

_ _

Years ago, reading a message like that from him would be just the beginning of a teasing competition about who had the ugliest face. But now...

All he had to say was apology after apology. Probably because guilt ate him from inside out since he left Trost. He hit his forehead with the phone, sighing and shaking his head.  He couldn't do that to Jean again, he couldn't just appear in his life to disappear the next day. Jean deserved better, not a difficult long-distance relationship when we could have the real thing anytime.

Because he  _ left  _ Jean, they were just starting to be a thing after being in denial for so long and Marco just… left. He broke his heart and it made him feel awful seeing Jean behaving as if nothing ever happened. As if he wasn’t hurt, missing him…

It’s not that Marco wanted Jean to suffer, but this whole conversation came out as extremely friendly considering how broken he seemed to be when he left. Considering how sad his eyes were when Marco said those horrible words that would haunt him forever, asking himself if it’s been his biggest mistake or the correct choice.

He took a look at the phone after a while, swallowing down.

“Jean” He whispered in the quiet room, half a sight, half a sob, Marco felt tears prickling his eyes, the emptiness in his chest leaving him even more hollow than before.

Everyone meaning “ _ my nonexistent friends _ ” of course. But he couldn’t say that to Jean, he wouldn’t understand his fear of being attached again to someone the way he was… he  _ is _ to his former friends. To Jean himself.

After that, he logged out.

Marco didn’t answer, he didn’t know how to. Maybe Jean was kidding, maybe he was serious about getting angry at him. It was the logical thing to do after all.

Even when Jean told him he would talk to him again, Marco wasn’t expecting anything at all. That Tuesday morning promised to be anything but special. And he shouldn’t expect anything of the sort, no one knew it was his birthday in that city and those who knew were now too far from him, a bunch of strangers or his family.

His classes didn’t stop because of it either, life kept spinning and he kept being older and as lonely as he was a few days ago. He sat at the college snack bar after some tedious lessons, playing games on his phone while taking bites of his cheap, scarce lunch. 

People talked and moved around him, unaware of the sad boy sitting alone in a corner of the cafeteria. It was so different from what he experienced in high school, always surrounded by supportive, loud friends, Jean’s presence was a constant in his life.

And he really thought at the time that pushing them away was the best thing to do for everyone. He knew how things worked, he knew distance tended to break relationships and no one should stop their lives just to worry about the friend that left town.

He lost in the game and a notification popped up at the top of the screen.

Marco frowned,  _ something for me?? _

He looked around, hope bubbling up his chest in a way he thought forgotten, but he saw no one he knew. No mop of blonde hair, no long face, nothing. 

_ Keep your hopes low, this is not a movie. _

Marco took a look at his phone again.

He couldn’t help the half-smile turning up the corner of his lips, sad eyes longing, missing, and wishing things were different. He knew that living in the past was useless but it was hard when the present and future seemed dull while his past has been so bright and full of life.

He ate the last bites in a rush, drinking a few gulps of water and shaking some bread crumbs from his hands over the table. He rushed out, dodging students and teachers until he had to squint from the sunshine beaming over his eyes. 

He tried to take out his phone from the back pocket on his jeans when soft hands covered his eyes. He gasped and tried to turn around but someone hugged his torso and arms, immobilizing him.

“What the hell is g—”

“You have the right to remain silent” It was a girl at his back, pretending to be a man, “Ehhh,  _ Blahblahblah, uh, something something  _ you in court.”

“ _ Anything you say can be used against you in court _ , you idiot, we rehearsed this!!” He recognized that voice and a blindfold covered his eyes.

“Don’t use your real voice!” 

Marco's small smile came with so many feelings he didn't know how to handle them “Connie? Sasha? What the—”

But neither of them were as half as strong as the person holding him, his deep voice rumbling at his back “So much for the surprise, tsk” 

“Reiner!?” Pushing and pulling from him, they took Marco a few steps away from the cafeteria, making him bow.

“Careful with the head!” A soft voice came from the car he was getting into, Reiner sitting by his side, Sasha at the other, “Hi Marco!”

“Bert… why, why are you all here?” Tears full of sentiment dampened the fabric over his eyes.

“I should be at the front seat,” The huge blond said, making Connie laugh.

He heard them yelling at each other, teasing, laughing around him as if he still was at highschool. Marco bit his lip, shaking his head slowly, overwhelmed by emotions and not prepared at all to face what he now realized was the biggest mistake of his life.

“Hey, we are not arresting you for real, or kidnapping, don’t take it like that” Connie said, Sasha’s hand rubbing Marco’s arm. It’s been so long since someone touched him like that. Or touched him. Period.

“Where, where’s Jean?” He sniffed, smiling at Connie’s silly words.

“Of course you’d ask about him first…” Reiner sighed by his side, shifting on the seat and turning his voice into a fond sound shaped by a smile“he’s closer”.

Marco felt dizzy and not from the movement of the car under his feet, “So, he’s here?”

“Pffff of course he is!!” Sasha slapped his forehead, giggling by his side, “this was his idea, dummy”

It would be a lie to say he didn’t think about this all to be Jean's doing, but now that he was certain of it, the idea of sharing the same space as Jean made his stomach twist in anticipation. His friends’ bickering reached his ears muffled under loud thoughts about the fear of facing Jean, the need of touching him again. 

_What if he doesn’t like what he sees?_ Marco was different from the boy who left three years ago while Jean reminded the same. _What if we don't get along we used to?_

“I think we’re here” Bert’s voice took him out from the spiral of thoughts and he followed Sasha outside the car, guided by her tiny hand.

“Not everyone could make it in just two days but I hope you like it” She whispered by his side, “why is everyone taller? I feel so small…”

“That’s because you are short, shortie” 

“Connie, really?” He chuckled at Sasha’s plain voice.

A sudden smell of freshly made pizza made his mouth water, excited whispers and chuckles spiking his agitation. 

“Fuck!” He would recognize that curse in a room full of people, and, still oblivious of his surroundings, Marco reached for the blindfold, tired of waiting.

After blinking twice, Jean looked back at him, parted lips and raised eyebrows in shock, a confetti cannon forgotten in his hands. “You are taller” Marco murmured, twisting the blindfold in his hands, staring at him, lovestruck.

Annie pushed Jean's shoulder making him out of his daze, shaking his head to twist the cannon, confetti all over the place after a loud blam. A second one came from the side where Annie made her own throw the colorful paper over him.

“Yaaaay happy birthday,” She said in a low unamused voice.

Marco felt all his anxiety go away as soon as he looked into the girl’s eyes, seeing a smile in them. He couldn’t stop the giggles turning into full laughter, “you are all a disaster” he said, wiping tears from his eyes.

Some of his friends grunted while some laughed with him, Sasha asked where the pizza was and Jean came closer, hands in his pockets and resignation in his long features. Marco was still crying but he wasn’t sure if they were happy tears from his laughter anymore.

“Come here you fucking beefcake” Jean surrounded his broad shoulders with long arms and Marco held his tiny waist with his.

“Jean” He sobbed against his neck, inhaling that scent that was just so him: home, safety, happiness,  _ love. _

“I know I’m taller than you now but you don’t have to be sad about it, come on” Even when he tried to sound cool, Marco heard how wobbly his voice was, breath tickling his ear and nails scratching his nape.

“Why are you all so silly?” Smiles and tears mixed in a painful grip to his heart, happy because he was being held by Jean, sad for all the time they lost.

His friends murmured around them, “Should we give them some alone time?”

“I don’t know, man”

“No you don’t” Jean let go of the tight hold, but not his hand, “I need some food or I’m gonna faint, where are my chicken wings?”

“Ooops, they were yours?”

“Sasha!!!”

And just like that, it was like no time has passed at all. Eren, Armin, and Mikasa couldn’t make it on time, Ymir and Historia were too busy planning the wedding but he got his invitation nonetheless. The group hasn’t seen each other in a while as well, so it was an updating reunion talking about jobs, the lack of them, university, existential crisis, anecdotes, partners, hard and good times.

Jean’s warmth and presence made him weak on the knees —witnessing his wicked smile and sharp eyes, so vulnerable to his constant sexual innuendos and jokes… he wasn’t used to it but he would not complain at all. 

But it still felt wrong deep inside him, it all seemed unfair for them and Marco knew he should say something. Jean, as sharp as always, squeezed his hand. He raised his brown eyes into that warm honey of his, swallowing the lump on his throat.

“Uhm, there’s something I want to tell you all” His voice came quiet and unsure, but his friends stopped their conversations at once. He held Jean’s hand tighter, “I think I owe you an apology,” No one said a thing, so he kept talking, “Now I know I shouldn't push you away, I wasn’t fair to you or our friendship. I thought I was doing the right thing but now that you are all here I just… I don’t want my friends to leave again”

He stopped talking not because he was over, but because his voice wouldn’t cooperate. It wobbled at the last word, the lump on his throat bigger than before, eyes blurry with unshaded tears.

“And I know you have to leave, I know your life is in a different city and that’s ok” He wiped a warm tear from his freckled cheek, sniffing, “I’m happy to see that you are getting somewhere in your life but, I don’t know, I’m gonna feel so lonely because you give me, so, so much, and, I, I…”

He couldn’t stand it any longer.

All his repressed feelings, all the pain, and solitude drowned him in a devastating wave of emotions. Hands and arms were all around him, soft words and caresses over his back and hair, trying to make him feel better.

“You don’t have to be sorry”

“We missed you too, idiot, don’t lose contact again”

“We’ll be here for you even when we are far”

“We can visit at least once a month”

“You are not alone”

“Omfg I’m crying too!!”

He smiled through the tears, grateful for his friends, feeling lucky and loved for the first time in such a long time. He nodded to them, blowing his nose on a cheap napkin, chuckling when he saw Connie and Bert crying as hard as himself. 

“Can we talk for a second?” Jean tugged from his hand, standing and pointing the restaurant door with his head.

He followed —ignoring their friends’ wolf whistles and loud coos— because of course he did.

Jean walked slowly down the street, Marco still found hard to believe that now it was he who had to look up to meet his eyes. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he shoved them in his pockets, taking a deep breath.

“Why are we heading to my house?” Marco asked. Jean slowed down his pace, startled.

“Are we? I, well I didn’t mean to, I don’t know where you live, I don’t know this city”

“So where are you taking me then?”

Jean shrugged, a soft blush covering his cheeks “I don’t know, somewhere quiet”

“There’s a nice coffee shop over there, they have books and my favorite table is at a quiet corner”

Jean nodded curtly, heading towards the building. His favorite table was available and he smiled at the known bartender. After getting their drinks at the bar, Marco sat on the corner sofa, covered by a wood screen. Dim lights, a few quiet customers, and hot beverages in hand, Marco felt like fifteen and in love again.

“So” Jean licked his lips after taking a sip from his warm chocolate, the movement distracting, “I heard you before, you don’t have to repeat once more how  _ wrong _ was your decision of being here on your own. I just need to know if, well” Marco could see how nervous he was, brittle and shy all of a sudden, “it’s silly ‘cause we are grown-ups now and so different from what we were and I know things ch—”

“Jean, just tell me” a burst of nervous laughter shook Marco, “is this rambling your punishment?”

“N-no, it’s just, ok, I just want to know” he talked slowly, palms facing down and eyes piercing his, “have I ever been special to you or just one more friend?”

Marco stared at him for a few seconds trying to understand where did that question come from. Jean’s lips turned down in a thin line, Adam's apple bobbing. “Listen, I know I messed up, I fucked up big time when I left the way I did. I've been stupid and I am sorry, especially if you never noticed how important you were to me”. Marco dropped his gaze to his steamy cup of coffee, “how important you still are”.

Now it was Jean’s turn to remain silent some killing, endless and oppressive seconds, “I had a hard time for the most of that first year without you” Marco knew that but hearing him saying it just made his guilt grow to make a dark ugly hole in his chest, “I tried dating people, casual sex and stuff but, I don’t know, they were not…  _ you” _

Marco knew he should be pouting by now, Jean always made fun of him when he felt like crying for how easy it was to read his expression. Jean loved him, he truly loved him and he ruined it. “I’m so sorry” He closed his eyes, thinking that maybe,  _ maybe  _ it would be easier to keep the tears away when doing so.

“Please, tell me you didn’t suffer all this time” Marco’s pained expression twisted and he looked away, wiping some traitorous tears with his forearm, “Marco…”

“I’m so,  _ so sorry” _

Jean shifted on his seat, moving closer. The hand on his wrist felt warm and nice, the one rubbing his back comforting him in a way he couldn’t describe, “I, I didn’t know I missed you this much until I had you in my arms, please, don’t push me away again”

“I don’t deserve this and you, why do you—?”

“You know why” His soothing voice felt like a caress to his soul, a shiver ran through his heart and Marco just… gave up. He turned on the seat, throwing himself into Jean’s held, crying on his shoulder while asking for forgiveness. “You’ve always been a drama queen” Beneath the smile on his voice, he could hear a slight tremble.

“I tried it too, I tried to move on but, there’s just no one, Jean. No one gets me as you do. You are my best friend, no one could ever take your place” The kiss to his forehead felt heavenly, the soft brush of long fingers over his hair, blissful, “Please, forgive me, you are my everything”.

“Marco, fuck” His held tightened to the point of being painful. He didn't care “Marco, I love you”

Brand new tears and an embarrassing sob later, Marco clung to him for dear life. Jean kissed his temple, his hair, his cheek and nose. His lips tasted salty from his tears but soft and warm, addictive, a mouth he would kiss for hours.

Jean curled his fingers through the longer strands of hair at his nape, the palm of the other hand over his cheek to keep him in place. Marco pulled from the back of his t-shirt, lost in the kiss and the feeling of being enveloped by Jean —his taste, his smell, his warmth. He was everywhere.

“I love you too” He whispered between kisses, huge dove eyes full of affection, so in love he couldn’t find the surface.

"Marco, please, promise me you'll stop feeling guilty about it. We both made a mistake" Marco tried to complain but Jean talked over him, "you cut ties with me and I didn't fight back, I just accepted defeat and now I know that I've should fight for your love back then"

"No, that's not your fault at all"

"Neither was yours. It was a mistake and we've learned from it, right?" Jean nuzzled his cheek, leaving a butterfly kiss over it.

Marco let himself be pampered in kisses, sweet touches, warm eyes, and soft grips. He stared at him awestruck, at Jean's eyebrows, the curve of his long nose, those sharp eyes now warm as molten caramel, a plush lower lip, pink and inviting. 

Marco leaned into his space to kiss him just because he could, his heart soaring high and tiny happy tears blurring his vision just a little bit.

Jean noticed and kissed them away, “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“For a change” He smiled on his lips, scattering kisses all over his face.

“Hey, don’t get sassy on me so fast” They got distracted between tickles, long deep kisses, mixing coffee, and hot chocolate together, “don’t distract me!” Jean pulled away from the kiss, covering Marco’s lips, “I’ve been thinking about moving here”

Marco’s eyebrows shot up right under his short bangs, “Where?! Do you have a place already? In two days?” He asked sitting straight, holding Jean’s hands.

“No” He blushed, “I was thinking about crashing at your place, just for a little while”

“Just for a… you were confident about this going as you planned” Jean shrugged but there was nothing he could hide from Marco, “you asshole, of course, you can stay at my place for as long as you want”

“You sure about that?” Jean pulled from his hands, talking in his lips, taking all the hollow feelings and loneliness away with just a brush of his mouth, “cause it would take long”

Marco sighed in his mouth, holding his entire world in his hands, kissing him again, and again, and once more, “Gonna be by your side, always down for the ride”

Jean giggled, shaking his head, “Was that a Christina Aguilera reference?” Marco nodded, giggling with him, happiness bubbling in his chest, leaning over Jean and closing his eyes, “I hate you”

“No, you don’t”

And the certainty of that statement is what made his soul finally rest at ease, heart beginning to heal even when some ugly doubts loomed over it. But he couldn’t ask for anything else, not really. He expected to have a lonely day and he got the best birthday present in his life.

His friends back. His _ best friend  _ back.

More than a brother. More than a  _ lover  _ or a boyfriend.

His everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Marco!! ♥
> 
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